Just a Thought
by The Fallen Sky
Summary: Mindy's been thinking about Dave a lot lately.


Title: Just a Thought  
Author: The Fallen Sky  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Kick-Ass(Dave)/Hit Girl(Mindy)  
Summary: Mindy's been thinking about Dave a lot lately.  
Warning: A little foul language, but what else is new?  
A/N: This is my second Kick-Ass fic and also my second Dave/Mindy fic. This one is set in the verse created by the second movie. I'm not sure if this would be considered AU or not, but considering some of Mindy's thoughts in this story, it's probably safe to say it's at least slightly AU. Also, the story is told from Mindy's POV. By the way, this is a one-shot, in case you were wondering.

Feedback is welcome and appreciated. Enjoy!

* * *

They're sitting on one of the work benches, each enjoying a cup of hot cocoa after their daily training session.

A companionable silence stretches between them.

Normally, they talk or joke as they relax after a training session, but sometimes, like now, they don't say anything at all, both of them content to simply share a quiet moment of companionship.

She's never admitted it to anyone, but she actually enjoys the quiet, moments like this where she doesn't have to put on a show, either verbal or physical, where she doesn't have to be Hit Girl or Mindy Macready, doesn't have to be anyone at all; she can just be.

Taking a sip of her cocoa, she briefly wonders if Dave likes the quiet the way she does. She'd like to think so, but she has no way of knowing, unless she asks, and, somehow, she thinks asking would ruin the mystique.

Chancing a glance in his direction, she sees him staring off into the distance, presumably lost in thought, and she wonders what he's thinking about.

Part of her, a part she doesn't like to acknowledge even exists, hopes he's thinking of her.

She's not sure why, but even the possibility that he thinks about her, in any way, makes her stomach do flips.

Yeah, she's always hated the girly-girl romance stuff about girls pining after a guy, drawing little hearts with the guy's name in the center in their notebooks, writing all kinds of mushy shit in their diaries about how much they want to kiss the guy. She thought that stuff was pathetic and stupid, thought she was above that kind of thing.

Sure, she's had thoughts about guys, but her thoughts have mostly been about the different ways she could kill them. And, maybe, sometimes, she might have thought about how hot a guy is and some non-lethal things she might like to do with him. She's never been the mushy type, though, and certainly not the type to think about whether or not a guy is interested in her or if he thinks about kissing her.

Dave certainly has made things less black and white, though.

She's found herself thinking about him more and more as they spend an increasing amount of time together.

It started out innocently enough, a few extra looks that weren't necessary, which turned into glances that linger a little too long. Touching, which was limited to training and the occasional congratulatory fist bump or hug when he did particularly well, has become more frequent, mostly her touching him, 'accidental' bumps of shoulders as they pass each other, either in the safe house or in the hallways at school, and even some light brushes of hands, like today when she handed him his mug of cocoa.

She didn't even know she was doing it at first but was made embarrassingly aware one day when she nearly walked into a door because she'd been staring at him and hadn't watched where she was going.

Fortunately, he didn't see the incident and hasn't noticed any of the other signs that she's been hyper-aware of him.

It's not that she doesn't want him to know she's thinking about him, but she'd much prefer if he was thinking about her, that he made the first move. She may be brave enough to walk into a crack den with nothing but a pen knife, but having Dave find out she's interested in him or flat out telling him is absolutely terrifying.

God, she hates this sissy emotional shit.

Why can't he just realize that she's into him and do something about it? Or hell, why can't she just grab him and kiss him?

She sighs in frustration and goes back to Dave-watching.

He's still staring off into the distance, the steam from the cocoa having fogged up his glasses, making him look incredibly dorky but also adorable as fuck.

Silently, he brings the mug to his lips and takes a long sip.

Her eyes follow the motion, staying locked on his lips even after he lowers the mug.

His tongue darts out, licking away the remnants of cocoa, and she feels her pulse quicken.

His lips look so soft and inviting, and she'd really like to know what they feel like pressed against hers.

Without realizing it, she begins to lean toward him, her face angling up toward his, her eyes locked on his lips.

He must sense her movement, because he stops staring at nothing and slowly turns his face toward hers.

Her eyes leave his lips and meet his gaze, seeing the unspoken question and mild confusion in his eyes.

She unconsciously licks her lips, her mouth suddenly dry, her breathing labored, her heart racing, her stomach in knots.

After a moment's hesitation, she continues her journey, her face moving ever closer to his, their lips so close she can feel his breath on her mouth, hot, moist and oh-so inviting.

Again, she hesitates, holding her position, their lips literally a breath apart. She's not sure he wants this, but judging by the fact that he hasn't pulled away or pushed her away, she has to believe he does, and that bolsters her confidence.

Unable to hold back any longer, she closes the gap between them, her eyes sliding shut as their lips meet, a feather light touch at first but becoming more firm with each passing second.

Electricity shoots through her body, sending delicious tingles of sensation up and down her spine, through her arms and legs, all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes, before finally settling in her chest where her heart literally skips a beat.

It feels like it lasts forever, but is probably no more than a few seconds.

Reluctantly, she breaks the kiss, pulling back only slightly, their faces so close that their noses bump. Her eyes remain closed, and she focuses on breathing, trying to calm herself. But, with him so close to her, heat radiating off him in waves, all she manages to do is breathe his breath, which intoxicates her, making her drunk with desire and causing her to lose what restraint she has left.

She once again closes the gap between them, but there's nothing soft or subtle about this kiss as their lips crash together. Like two titans doing battle, their lips move, slide and dance. At first, it's she who is the aggressor, claiming his lips like he's an opponent she has to beat into submission. Before long, the roles reverse, and she finds herself on the defensive, the prey to his hunter, as his lips attack hers, his tongue darting out, licking her lips, seeking entrance into her mouth, which she eagerly grants.

New and wonderful sensations bombard her as his tongue invades her mouth and tangles with her own. Her heart hammers inside her chest, her lungs fight for precious oxygen that she seems determined to deny, because she can't and won't stop kissing him. Her head swims with all manner of thoughts and feelings, none of which make any sense, because she's completely lost in the moment, lost in the kiss, lost in him.

She briefly realizes that he tastes like cocoa and marshmallows and wonders if that's how he always tastes. She doesn't really care, because she's determined to find out by kissing him as much and as often as possible from now on.

Her mind goes blank as she surrenders herself to the moment, to the sensations she's feeling, but she can't help noticing a tickle at the back of her mind. She tries to ignore it, but it becomes more prominent with each passing second. It aggravates her that something is distracting her from enjoying her make out session with Dave, but the tickle has turned into something else, a faint voice that echoes in her mind and in her ears.

As distracted as she is by Dave's lips on hers, she begins to focus, the haze of desire lifting enough for her to hear what the voice is saying. To her surprise, it's calling her name.

Intrigued and confused, she focuses more intently and realizes that the voice calling her name is Dave's.

She wonders how that could be when her tongue is in his mouth, but as the voice grows louder and more concerned, she knows that it's Dave.

"Mindy!"

She starts at the sound of her name echoing loudly in her ears, which causes her to nearly drop her mug of cocoa.

Blinking rapidly to clear the cobwebs, her eyes focus on Dave's face, filled with concern.

His voice is soft, the worry evident. "Are you okay, Mindy?"

"Huh?" is all she manages, her brain still in a fog.

"You kinda zoned out there for a minute."

That's when it hits her.

_It wasn't real. It was all just in my head._ She thinks, more than a little disappointed.

Suddenly embarrassed and self-conscious, she tries to cover for her little trip to fantasy land and hopes she sounds convincing. "Yeah, I-I'm fine."

From the look on his face, she doesn't think he's buying it.

"You're sure?" There's still a hint of concern in his voice which makes her stomach flip and her heart flutter.

Nodding her head and giving him what she hopes is a reassuring smile, she responds, "Yep. Just kinda got lost in thought."

He looks at her, his eyes searching hers, trying to discern whether or not she's telling the truth.

She holds her breath, worried he knows exactly what she was thinking about.

After what feels like an eternity, his expression softens and he gives her a goofy little grin, one that, lately, always seems to melt her insides and makes her want to kiss him for real, before turning his attention back to whatever it was he was preoccupied with before this little misadventure.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she grips her mug in both hands to keep them from shaking.

_That was close, too close. _She thinks. _Fuck, I gotta get a grip._

A sly smile graces her lips and a mischievous twinkle lights her eyes as a wonderful thought occurs to her.

_Maybe I just need to get a grip on _him_, or certain parts of him anyway._

Smiling to herself and resolved to do something about her growing Dave obsession, she steals one more quick glance at his lips before taking a sip of her cocoa.


End file.
